Heat Signature
by busy pushing up daisies
Summary: "It's funny. Midgard decides to go to hell as soon as Loki deigns to visit." Inspired by prompt: Avengers in Walking Dead! Universe. AU. Teamfic. Discontinued.


It's funny. Midgard decides to go to hell as soon as Loki deigns to visit. Inspired by prompt: Avengers in Walking Dead! Universe. AU. Teamfic.

* * *

"-hey, Agent Barton, can you hear me?" Clint winces at the bark, taps his ear agitatedly.

"Did you forget I have it in my ear, idiot?" he snaps back, shifting in his uncomfortable position flattened in a vent, and the person quiets.

"Sorry," comes the soft reply, "Just thought I lost you for a second there." Clint flinches at the voice, sighs.

"What's your name kid?"

"Um, John."

"Well, _John_," Clint says, enunciating the name slowly, "I'll put in a few words with the higher-ups if you manage to get me out of here alive, got it?" He hears stuttering, and a nervous voice speaks up.

"I don't think you actually require assistance, but I'll do my best."

"Yeah, well, don't piss yourself over it," Clint mutters, and says more loudly, "Where's the exit?"

Through the ear piece, he hears several loud clicks, as if pressing upon a computer mouse urgently. Last he remembered, they didn't use those old fashioned things anymore. Must be in some janitorial room, then, Clint thinks, wrinkles his nose at putting his life in John's hands.

"Well, there's one leading to the bathroom on the second floor, and if you get your timing right, you should manage to leave the building without being detected."

"Great," Clint replies, "lead me to it." With John's careful guidance, Clint crawls to the exit, ever so slowly.

"How odd," John is murmuring to himself, and Clint, bored, inquires about the comment, being careful to avoid pressing his elbows into the metal.

"Well, the ladies' room is frequented quite often, considering it is a popular hotel." Clint falters, the_ ladies' room?_

"But, there's been a lack of activity lately."

"Wait, wait," Clint interjects, "you saying there's cameras in the bathrooms?"

"Certainly not," John replies, as if insulted, "well, not in the sense you're implying. They capture heat signatures. An agent installed them, from before. It's surprising how much people still visit it even after all the assassinations. Must be appealing in some way."

"Still creepy," Clint says, "and why did you choose the ladies' room, of all places?"

"Like I said," John repeats, more firmly, as if talking to an incompetent child, "there's been a lack of activity in that particular area, and it was the closest to the stairs. You've stayed in that hotel for about a month, someone is bound to recognize you, so, it was the most efficient way to get you out."

"I get it," Clint retorts, cowed, and continues with more enthusiasm, abhorring the cramped space more than usual. He stills abruptly, coughing, throws his hand up to protect his sensitive nose.

"Sir?"

"The smell," Clint chokes out, "God, it's fucking disgusting."

"It is a restroom, sir," is the reply, a lilting amusement evident in their voice.

"Yeah, but I thought since it was-... never mind."

John decides not to reply, and Clint struggles to the small exit, kicks out the barrier, and slides out, grunting when his abdomen scratches against the metal. As soon as his heels meet the floor, he wrinkles his nose. The wave of that disgusting dingy smell hits him, burns his eyes. He blinks carefully. Lets out his breath. And draws it back in just as quickly.

"The exit, sir, there's no one outside."

Clint complies, almost rushing to the door, and frowns when his hand closes over it.

"Sir?"

"Shh," Clint hisses, eyes wide, tensing his shoulders, "someone's here."

John is silent, and Clint twists the doorknob. It doesn't budge. Someone locked it. He exhales.

"No recent activity, huh?"

"No heat signature," John corrects feebly. "And someone could have locked it from the outside." Clint narrows his eyes, all the more reason for suspicion. Someone who could stay under Shield's high tech, and avoid Clint's eye? He turns around slowly, and with a quick twitch of his fingers, an arrow is tucked carefully in his bow. Silently, Clint makes his way across the stalls. He slants a look for each one, tense, but all are empty. He stops at the end, where the handicapped stall has its door ajar. The smell is almost crippling here, and Clint curses.

Without hesitation, he kicks open the door, arrow aimed and ready, and falters. Resists the urge to rear back from the sight. _The smell._

A head is dipped in the toilet, dark hair framing the circle, and the frail body is tucked to the side. The flesh has already started to decompose, he notes with disgust, and slams the door close. The image still burns in his retinas.

"What is it?" John asks, nervous.

"Corpse," Clint states, and taps his ear when John's voice rises in distress.

"Well," John says, "guess that explains the absence of a heat signature."

"Doesn't explain why there's a corpse," Clint replies easily, tucking his arrow back into his quiver, throws his bow over his shoulder.

"No, I suppose not," John answers softly, "should I notify anybody?"

"No," comes Clint's sharp reply, "just stay put. I got this covered."

"Are you going to find out who did it?"

"Do I look like a fucking detective?... Shit, sorry. Just- be quiet for a minute, will ya?"

John complies. "Do you have any more cameras?"

"No."

"Why the restroom?"

"I don't know, sir," John says, "it was placed there by an earlier agent. You'll have to ask them."

"Right," Clint replies, sighs. Whatever drove the woman to hide in the bathroom and drink from the toilet as a last resort was no easy thug that could be dealt with. There was no noise either, so, it was easy to assume that they had already gotten to everyone else. How could he not notice this?

He starts suddenly, snatching an arrow from the quiver. Silence. He frowns, cocks his head to the side. There it was again, the slight scraping noise, as if someone was making a monumental effort to stand. With wide eyes, he twists around.

A moan. A slight tug of relief at his lips, an action he couldn't resist. Perhaps she wasn't as dead as he initially thought. He lurches forward, pushes the stall door aside. And barely has time to twist his head to the side, before teeth snap dangerously close to his ear.

"What the hel-" She jumps again, and he throws his body to the side, flinches when his body is soaked with something that he can only wish is water, or blood. Even blood is fine. The ear piece is dipped into the wetness, and Clint winces when the thing shocks him. He digs it out roughly, throws it to the side. He manages a backward roll when the woman comes at him again, and she slips.

She doesn't get up when the arrow lodges itself into her skull. Clint pants in silence, before his eyes flicker to the dead ear piece a few feet away, quiet.

"Well, shit."

….

After he retrieves the arrow, nudges the corpse for a few seconds, and goes to the sink for refreshing water, does the word come to him.

_Zombie. _The word still seems off to him, can't possibly explain what had just occurred.

But it happened. The woman had come back from the dead. _Oh, shut up,_ says the more rational part of him. She probably wasn't dead in the first place. Dehydration probably screwed up her brain signals, or some other scientific explanation.

_Zombie works too._ Clint growls, presses his fist against his eyes at the memory of her. Sighs.

This is just great, stuck in a country that wasn't his own, with no means of communication and maybe, just maybe, experiencing the zombie apocalypse. Maybe he should have gotten a cell phone after all. He could use the public phone, ask for help, but his gut tells him if any of the other citizens acted like the dead thing over there, they'd refuse.

For a brief moment, he wonders if Natasha is having the same trouble as him, but dismisses the thought. It wasn't a zombie.

Maybe.

* * *

**A/N: **don't laugh, it's supposed to be serious. i saw this prompt on the avengerskinkmeme about the Avengers and Loki getting stuck in the Walking Dead universe. to my disappointment, it was unfilled, so decided to take it upon myself to fill it. unfortunately, i forgot where it was, so. this is an AU for obvious reasons, but also when Loki falls into the abyss of death he lands on Earth instead. also, this is going on the theory that zombies don't have heat signatures. next chapter will contain Loki, so stay tuned. feedback would be appreciated.

**2/16/13: ****this is crap and i don't know why anyone would like it. still, thanks for the reviews and favorites, and follows and stuff. DISCONTINUED. **


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